


One Thing Leads to Another...

by MintIceTea



Series: Rumbelle Tumblr Events [7]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), The Legend of Barney Thomson (2015), The Long Midnight of Barney Thomson - Douglas Lindsay
Genre: Anyelle, Barnelle - Freeform, F/M, RCIJ 2016, Rumbelle Christmas in July, Rumbelle Christmas in July 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 04:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7561252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintIceTea/pseuds/MintIceTea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First there was the train, (or maybe there was a break up then a train?), then a murder (but it was only a little thing, you know), then there was a rather humorous misunderstanding, and well…  [RCIJ 2016]</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Thing Leads to Another...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lady_Therion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Therion/gifts).



> For my sweet and lovely friend lady-therion on tumblr as part of Rumbelle Christmas in July.  
> Her prompt was 'they meet on a train' and my mind went immediately to Barnelle. (Which I was glad to see was what she was hoping for!)
> 
> It was such a fun idea, and I hope this little thing makes up for me being such a flakey santa, my dear!  
> xoxo

                Belle was disappointed with her book. It had sounded so promising on the shelf. She closed it with a sigh, turning her attention out the window. She only had the vaguest idea of where in Scotland this train was heading. She let Ruby and Dottie buy her the tickets. A vacation, with the thought of anywhere was better than a city where Gaston lived. Belle had only begged them not to send her too far, she was starting her new job back in London in a few weeks’ time. She absently fiddled with the book on her lap, grimacing when she finally connected why she found the hero in her story so distasteful.

                “Idiot,” she murmured. Not sure whether she meant her ex or herself, she shoved her book in her bag. Belle watched the countryside crawl by outside the train. It wasn’t an express, but a bit of a sight-seeing ride. Slower, but with hotel accommodations at the end of the line. They weren’t scheduled to arrive until about nine, and Belle frowned when she realized she had about two hours to kill now that she had abandoned her book.

                Her eyes slid over to the seat next to her. The man was the only other one on this row, and had dropped into the seat beside her not long after the train had started moving, but had long since slipped into slumber. Only waking slightly when a steward came by to offer drinks. He probably had the right idea, Belle mused, and settled down in her seat. A short nap wouldn’t be remiss. She closed her eyes and pushed all thoughts of Gaston out of her mind.

                It wasn’t like she missed him or anything. Belle knew full well within the first week of them dating that they wouldn’t be suited to each other. But pure stubbornness on both sides kept them together for five agonizing months. Belle wasn’t even upset that he had found a new girlfriend before they had officially broken up. It had probably eased the way.

                What did upset her though, was how horrible he treated her as if in order to prove that he no longer had feelings for her.

                Urgh. Deep breath in, exhale, no thoughts of Gaston. Just lovely thoughts of wondering where in Scotland Ruby was sending her.

                It seemed like she had only just dozed off when she was startled out of sleep by the train screeching to a halt. It wasn’t sharp or sudden, and Belle managed to stay in her seat. But the man napping next to woke with a shout of surprise and ended up sprawling on the floor, tripping over his own feet.

                Belle knelt beside him, her hand on his back as he lifted himself to his knees.

                “Are you-oh, your nose is bleeding!” She turned to her purse for a tissue as he held a hand to his nose, cussing quietly. “Here you are.” She pressed the tissue to his nose, startling him into complete stillness.

                 “Thank you,” he muttered, not quite able to look at her. Belle politely pretended not to notice that the tips of his ears were turning red. He pulled himself back into his seat. And Belle moved back into hers, facing him.

                “Are you alright?” She asked as he pulled the tissue away, grimacing.

                “Aye.” He touched his nose tenderly. “Not broken, at least.”

                 “Good, good.” Her hands fidgeted in her lap. “I’m Belle by the way.”

                “Barney,” he replied just as the steward reached their cabin. They both turned to face the young man, blotchy faced and panting.

                “We’re very sorry for the disruption, but the train will be stopping in here for the night while police investigate matters.”

                “Matters?” Belle echoed, vaguely aware of Barney slouching over from the corner of her eye.

                “Yes miss, there has been a horrible accident on board the train, until the police have examined the scene we are not allowed to move and all passengers are to stay in their cabins.” Finally regaining some composure the steward informed them that the staff would resume full service as soon as cleared by the police.

                And just like that they were alone again.

                “Barney?” Belle hesitantly reached over and laid a hand on his knee. While he stiffened under her touch, he didn’t move away. “What’s the matter?”

                “It wasn’t me.”

                “No, it wasn’t,” she replied slowly, trying to puzzle out why he was worried. He had been in here with her the entire time the train was moving. And unless the accident had happened before the train left the station then Barney was completely innocent.

                And she told the investigating officer over and over. The man was stout and unpleasant, greasy in both hair and manner, and he seemed to have it in his mind that Barney was at fault for the death on the train. If for no other fact that Barney refused to meet the man’s eyes when he first walked in. Belle was incensed. Her new friend was  _shy_ , he wasn’t a killer. And Belle had taken his innocence as her personal project and the officer was not leaving their cabin until he knew it.

◊◊◊

                Barney knew his mouth was hanging open, he couldn’t help it. The petite woman,  _Belle_ , she knew no more than his name and that his nose wasn’t broken. But that wasn’t stopping her from suddenly becoming his guardian angel. The moment Officer Paternoster stepped into the car announcing that there was a murderer on board, Barney had visions of being thrown off the train in handcuffs. He didn’t even know the man who had died, but that hadn’t stopped Barney from being blamed before. Resigned, he hung his head. There was no point arguing, Barney had learned that lesson quickly.

                Belle hadn’t. He knew at that point that she knew how to get what she wanted. And for some reason, god only knows, she wanted Barney to stay with her. She may have been a detective in her right, she got Officer Paternoster to admit the time of death (seemingly, the poor man stumbled and stabbed himself on his own knife while in the luggage car), and Belle was triumphant in declaring that Barney had been with her the entire time.

                “Alright, alright,” Officer Paternoster finally huffed, stepping back from Belle’s jabbing finger. “I’ll confirm with the staff, and as long as they say the same thing your husband is off the hook, Mrs. French.”

                A choking sound escaped Barney’s throat. He watched Belle fall back into her seat with a huge sigh. She stared at him, a shy smile starting to creep across her face.

                “I hope he isn’t their lead investigator,” she offered after a moment.

                Still flushing, Barney couldn’t help a laugh at that. “Aye, or he assumed I’m a sad sack of a husband who can’t even afford a ring for you.”

                She wiggled her ringless fingers at him, teasing. “Haven’t even taken me on a date, tsk tsk.”

                “I could.” It took a moment to realize that his words had escaped without his permission. But a freak moment of bravery prompted him to continue. “Take you on a date I mean, if you’d like.”

                Now it was Belle’s turn to blush. But on her the look was enchanting. Barney felt his heart flutter and suddenly he was more invested in her answer than he expected.

                “I’d like that. Very much.”

                Her smile was so bright, that Barney wasn’t even that embarrassed when she leaned over to wipe away a bit of blood on his upper lip.

◊◊◊

                “That’s probably why he assumed we were married, then,” Belle murmured. As she peered at Barney’s ticket.  He explained that when he bought the ticket the teller couldn’t seem to get his name right so Barney decided to settle for traveling under the alias of ‘Barney F’. When assigned to a cabin with a ‘Ms. Belle French’ the confusion was understandable. “Though I have no idea how he got ‘F’ out of Thomson.”

                His answer was a shrug, and an intelligible mutter. She smiled, and he felt the need to elaborate even further. He had already failed to give her the alias he wanted to go under. He figured he might as well tell the truth.

                Or at least part of the truth.

                It probably wasn’t good to lie to your guardian angel.

                “I needed to get away after my mum passed, didn’t want my brother,” or the police, “to find me. I didn’t want to go by Thomson for a while.”

                “I understand,” Belle said, reaching towards him. “And I’m sorry about your mother.”

                “It’s—thank you.” He was distracted by her hand in his and her sympathetic gaze. How long had it been since a woman, or anyone, looked at him with sympathy instead of pity? Most of him memories involved being ignored. Having her focused on him made him feel fuzzy in the most pleasant of ways.

                Fuck. He felt like a schoolboy with his first crush.

◊◊◊

                Belle knew she always looked for the best in people. And that trust sometimes,  _maybe_ , got her into trouble. But there was something about Barney that she just  _liked_. They fell into conversation easily, even after a steward came by to inform them that the train was cleared to continue its’ journey. She had moved the seat beside him, delighting in how her arm brushing his made his words trail off.                

                It had taken him awhile to warm up, but Belle had been impressed by his knowledge of trivia. He admitted that he had used to be a barber, and had picked up plenty of useless information over his career.

                “I’m a librarian, and I promise you that no knowledge is useless.” She grinned. “Just maybe not necessary in a particular situation.”

                He laughed at that. “I look forward to the day when I come across as clever instead of a complete knob then.”

                They spent the rest of the ride in pleasant chatter. It wasn’t until the night lighting in the cabin flickered on that they realized how dark it had gotten outside. A knock on the door revealed a staff member, a strained smile tight across her lips. “Our apologies for the delay – in compensation we have booked rooms at the West Highland in Mallaig, confirmed in your case, Ms. French, and thank you for your patience and understanding. Is there anything I can get you?”

                They both shook their heads, and the girl could not keep a flicker of relief off her face. She left with an approximation of their arrival time. Belle dug around in her bag and victoriously pulled out the information packet for the hotel. While Ruby had kept the location a mystery, Mulan had given Belle a folder of pamphlets for the destination. Belle spread the paper out on her lap, letting Barney read over her shoulder.

                “Looks like they’ve a couple of restaurants,” he ventured after the moment, eyes frozen on the paper. “I do owe you a date, I mean.”

◊◊◊

                                Barney knew he was prone to making rash decisions when he panicked. But fuck, after the past couple years he thought he was over it. He could face death with unflappable calm now (or so he hoped), so taking a beautiful women out to dinner couldn't be half as terrifying could it?

                It seemed like it could. He happily relinquished the bulk of the conversation to her in order to focus on not making a fool of himself. The clumsiest thing that had happened so far had only been bashing his knee into the table as he sat down. And Belle had fussed at him over that so it wasn't all bad.

                "So Ruby, Dottie, and Mulan. They decided that since my official first day at the library isn't until next Friday they would send me on a relaxing weekend." She pulled a face. "That poor man on the train. I am glad to hear it was only an accident though. I wonder if that Detective went accusing everyone of being a suspect."

                "I doubt it," Barney sighed. A little worried about the turn in conversation. He really didn't want to reveal the extinct of his bad luck to Belle. And as desert arrived he steered the conversation back towards Belle's new job at a Uni library in London.

                "It's a small campus, but there is a large history department so they have plenty of books for me to look after." She smiled the whole time she was speaking.. And suddenly Barney could focus on nothing else than the smear of chocolate on her lip. His own desert sat forgotten on his plate, it wasn't to compare with Belle's decadent chocolate cake anyway. It looked rich and sweet, and probably twice so if he could sample it from her lips...

                "Barney?" His eyes flickered up to hers when she spoke, she looked amused and he could feel his ears redden in embarrassment that she caught him so easily.

                "I'm sorry."

                "Don't be. Husband." The title was drawn out, teasingly referring to the problem that still needed addressing.

                Somehow, maybe due to the confusion of his poorly executed alias. And maybe the detective's assumption. Both the train staff and hotel staff were under the impression that they were married. 'Very beneficial', the front desk agent had told them. Originally they were short one room for all the passengers. But 'there was a misunderstanding, Mr. and Mrs. French, somehow you had been given separate rooms.'

                And always professional, the staff had fixed it.

                With a lovely suite with a stunning ocean view.

                And one bed.

                For Mr. and Mrs. French.

                Barney had thought he was going to have a heart attack then and there in the lobby. But Belle had charmingly covered for his panic. Convincing him that it wasn't a big deal, they could share a bed tonight and deal with it in the morning when there may be some vacancies.

                He had protested. (Out of fear his bad luck would rear its head again, or even worse. It wouldn't and Barney would make a complete fool of himself all on his own.) Belle had taken him by the arm, and deferred the conversation until after dinner at least. To give him time to think it over.

                He had thought about it. A lot.

                And he still hadn’t come to a conclusion he was satisfied with by the time they were standing in the suite.

◊◊◊

                Barney’s hesitation was palatable. It was actually kind of sweet. Belle had known him less than a day, and she felt comfortable enough with him to share a bed. Something that surprised herself. It had taken a couple of weeks of dating before Belle was at ease with Gaston in her bed.

                “I can take the sofa,” she offered after a moment. “It’ll be fine for one night.”

                “No.” He shook his head vehemently at that, Belle was pleased to see, and didn’t offer to take it in his own right. Knowing that it would be damnably painful to sleep on after dozing on the train. “We can share.”

                “I’ll keep my hands to myself, if you’d like. But I’m a cuddler so no promises.” She watched his reaction to her teasing carefully.

                He cracked a smile. “Aye, well, I s’pose I could put up with that.”

                Belle felt her heart flutter at his rueful smile. It was a look she hadn’t yet seen on him. She was hoping there would be a lot more looks of his she’d be able to discover.

◊◊◊

                They had settled into the bed rather uneventfully. Belle keeping up a quiet stream of chatter on what touristy things she’d like to try. Making sure he knew he was welcome to every single one of them. After a while she faded out, eyes closed and listening to his gentle breathing. He was still awake. Every twitch she made caused him to tense up.

                With a quick wish for luck, Belle scooted over to his side of the bed. She tucked her head under his chin, her lips curling as she heard his shaky intake of breath. “This alright?”

                “Uh, ah, aye. Aye, more than.” His hands moved to settle on her hips, staying perfectly still for a moment. But he began to relax and she shivered as he stroked her skin with his thumbs. “Belle?”

                “Mm?” She tilted her face up, pressing a kiss beneath his jaw. And another when she noticed the red creeping across his skin. He shook his head, seeming to dismiss what he was going to say.

                “It’ll hold until tomorrow. Good night.”

                “Good night, Barney.”


End file.
